One night they came to me looking for the beast, the Prophets of the Rose. They have come to slay the beast and the beast was here all along.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

V Prophet of Conformity

V

Of prophets there are many but none as beloved as the Prophet of Conformity. It is to Conformity that we bow our heads, offering obedience and servitude without question.

It is to her that we offer our coins and our faith; our children and our future; in this life and the next. It is because of her that we are in our best behavior and so, it is because of her that we live under the pretense that we are happy being who we are not, hoping that we may be loved in return.

Thus, said Conformity to her devout followers:

Often I look upon your faces and think that Death would be a mercy. In your cow-like eyes, I swear I see stupidity stretch in infinity and verily I say to you, as much as I hate you, I feel pity for you as well.

Knowledge offered is taken for the gospel truth, when lies mixed with truth swirl together like honey in water yet I see you drink it all in, the elixir of corruption.

It is a fine thread that separates the two and in your desperate need for affirmation, you huddle together like cows in a pen, each pressing the other for warmth. In the ever growing need to escape loneliness, you would discard the truth for lies if you thought it would purchase a moment empty of silence, for you fear it more than you fear Death.

And if the herd were to take the thread and weave a rope to hang themselves with, would you do the same for the sake of belonging?

Here is the rope, here are the lies, do with it what you will for your need is both your blessing and your bane. In silence lies a truth purer than the discordant chatter of your mindless talk.

In my head, I see you hanging from the ropes made up of your own lies.